I'll admit it. I love a good story. My wife calls it nattering. Maybe that's why I'm a writer, so I can get what's in my head out for the world to share. Some say the glass is half full. Other say it's half empty. Me? My glass is around the corner, down the street and over the bridge — and who knows what's in it. Ready or not, here I come. Let the nattering begin!

Saturday, January 8, 2011

How Many Cats is Too Many Cats?

In a word, FOUR.

For as long as I can remember, we've been a house with three cats. The trio we currently have include Fuzzy (a bushy-haired gray cat we originally named "Einstein," because of his hair ... but sadly, his intellect was not quite there and thus the switch to Fuzzy) ... Mookey (a black-and-white tuxedo cat who is so big, he looks as though he could have eaten another cat) ... and Squink (one only female cat — black, slender and rules the roost).

A few years ago, a friend of Kate's was frantic to find homes for kittens that had been born — unbeknownst to them — in the garage. Suckers that we are, we let her bring one home. He was very tiny and very sick. After a pricey vet visit, Lisa had to literally nurse him back to health, with hand-feedings, bottle feedings and daily medication. Poor little guy. We honestly thought he was a goner. But no, Gato (as we eventually named him) was a tough little cookie. As he grew, he deviled the other cats, especially Squink. It got so bad that the two of them couldn't be in the same room. Eventually, our friend Shannon (another cat fancier) agreed that Gato could live with her. And then there were three.

When Kate was first starting Whitworth in September and it looked as though she'd be in an apartment by herself, Lisa's sister couldn't bear it. "She needs someone to love," she said as she went to the cat adoption place in Spokane. That's where they found Beatrice, a tiny black kitten, full of piss and vinegar! "Bebe," as she was nicknamed, and Kate had a wonderful five days in the apartment. And then a dorm room opened up ... Bebe moved to Vancouver ... and it looked as though we'd be back to four cats again.

But by this time, we also had two chihuahuas who are not big fans of new cats — or any cats, for that matter. So bailing us out once again, Shannon decided Bebe would be better off with her. God bless that Shannon!

And here we are again with three cats. While we love the furry little buggers, we've already decided that since the kids are gone, once the cats die out ... (I know, don't boo, they have to go sometime!) ... they will not be replaced. 3-2-1 ... and someday, none.

The moral of this story? Even if you love cats, four is one cat too many. Don't believe us, ask Shannon. She tells people she has three cats plus one "foster cat." Cat people think alike.